Scissors. Part two.

Or: A number of surprising realizations and a typewriter. Okay. Kind of left you trailing last time … let me catch you up. If you will recall, I’m getting my stitches taken out (part one) by someone fabulously incompetent. Or hilariously incompetent...

Scissors.

So the other day I’m in the surgery room waiting to have stitches taken out — — and before you completely freak out because you are my mother, let me reassure you that it was not a big deal at all and it was just a thing being removed by the...

Speaking to the fog.

Last week Liz McGowen wrote a terrific post called Tina and the Troll. It was inspired by some of my wacky conversations with monsters. And it’s fascinating, because she borrowed my concept of using a negotiator to mediate the hard parts and took it somewhere...

Roses everywhere.

So usually when I talk to monsters or have long conversations with walls (or otherwise engage with my stucknesses in semi-wacky ways), there’s a lot of talking involved. Words. Because, you know, I’m that way. Verbal. Not always necessarily all that...
The Fluent Self